Ringing, Ringing,
Song of the blue-bird and bobolink’s call,
Singing, Singing,
Up in this beautiful world are they all!
Clinging, clinging,
In this green shadow, the clematis swings.
Bringing, bringing,
Hints of strange odors, and dim woodland things.
Flinging, flinging,
The snow-ball, its white, pretty blossoms on me,
Springing, springing,
The damask rose climbs to the lattice to see!
Backward my hair is floating and swaying,
Here o’er the garden-walk softly I sing;
Far more delightful, than wearily straying,
Is it to dream here, while gently I swing.
How the Days Went at Sea-Gull Beach.
No school! And the beautiful summer days coming so early in the morning, that none of us children ever could get awake to see the sun rise, and staying so long that we grew quite tired of being happy; and some of us, Gracie and Jimmie in particular, were so little, that they couldn’t stay awake through the whole of it, and went off into a nap every day after dinner.
But this was in the city, and when we arrived at the beach we didn’t get tired or cross the whole day long. There were many children at the hotel, and when we came, with our dolls and toy boats, our fishing-tackle and spades, and pails, we made a host of friends immediately.